I was starting to think this was a mistake.
What on earth was I doing?
I was moving in with Max.
I wasmarryinghim.
“This is the last of it, ma’am,” a man named Adrian said to me, with the last cardboard box in his arms. “Max should be downstairs waiting for you.”
Of course he is.The man practically choked on his own oxygen when we weren’t physically connected.
I guess this was it. I wasn’t sure why I was acting as if I was sad to leave this place. I’d never be able to forget the image of Lucas’s body and how his mouth had hung open.
He’d died right where I was standing, but Sean had cleaned everything up as if he’d never been here in the first place. I hated that it had been so easy for them. All that made me think about was how many other times they’d done it.
I held Duke’s leash tighter in my hands and slammed the door, creating a loud echo in the empty hallway.
The elevator descended slowly, taking us to the main lobby. Adrian gave me a strange look.
“What?” I asked, my voice tight.
“You’re one of those crazy girls, aren’t you?”
Should that offend me? What a strange thing to say to someone.
“You should ask Max. I wonder what he’d think of you asking me that.”
Adrian’s curt nod was more of a flinch. His entire demeanor shifted. He shuffled his feet, the silence between us thickening.
Taking in a deep breath, I squared my shoulders. The leather leash felt cool and familiar against my hand. Duke, sensing myshift in mood, whined softly and pressed his wet nose into my leg. I reached my hand down to give his neck a rub.
Finally, with a muttered apology that sounded a lot like, “Good luck with Max, crazy or not,” Adrian scurried out of the elevator the second the doors chimed open, practically leaping into the hallway.
I stepped out, the metal doors sliding shut behind me with a soft hiss.
Max stood on the near side of the lobby looking the part, and that both terrified and fascinated me in equal measure. His posture was relaxed, legs planted firmly shoulder-width apart, with his hands tucked into his pockets.
“Oh, goody,” I mouthed sarcastically as my feet moved on autopilot, closing the distance between us.
Finally, when I was close to feel the heat radiating from his body (and to smell his cologne—was that a hint ofDiorand desperation?), I stopped at his feet.
“You again.”
He looked down at me. Then a slow, handsome smile spread across his face. It wasn’t a smirk, not a predatory grin, but a genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
“You didn’t run,” he said, which sounded a lot like a statement more than a question.
“No,” I said, forcing a frown to mask the sudden flutter in my stomach. “Mostly because running in heels is a recipe for disaster, and frankly, expensive.”
“Too bad,” he drawled. “I wouldn’t have minded the chase.”
I raised a brow. “Are you saying you’d give me a head start?”
He chuckled. “A head start and all the heels in the world,” he began. “There is not a single brick in the entire state of New York that I wouldn’t flip to find you.”
“Chicago then?” I managed.
“You wouldn’t make it that far.”
